Friday, 8 July 2005

Keepin' it real.

There's cable TV in my apartamento. There is a shitpile of crap on cable. This crap is redeemed in no small way by reality TV british-style.

Rather than observe what happens when you swap a wife between Texas and Nebraska or how a lady handles dipping her face into a maggot-infested tank to retrieve as many rodent foetuses as she can within one minute, the Brits make people sing Gilda in Rigoletto.